


Please Leave a Message

by Arixese



Series: Angst Collection [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Body Horror, Broken Promises, Car Accidents, Character Death, Crying Skeleton, Denial, Emotional Roller Coaster, F/M, Grieving, Guilt, Hope, Monster Dust, Nightmares, deciet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2018-12-17 13:36:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11852670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arixese/pseuds/Arixese
Summary: Papyrus tried to pretend nothing was wrong, he entertained like he always did, cooked one of the best dishes he has ever made, But, there was something wrong, something deeply wrong. You were supposed to be here an hour ago, and no matter how many times he tried, you're not answering your phone.





	1. Busy Signal

“Hey, sorry, can’t come to the phone right now! But lea—”

Papyrus gave a frustrated sigh as he stuffed his phone back in his pocket. He could hear his friends talking amongst each other from the other room, Undyne’s booming laughter dominating the conversation as he dialed down the stove and inhaled the garlic goodness wafting from the bubbling pot. It smelled delightful! A translucent, green, buttery sauce clung to the noodles as he stirred them around, dashing some oregano and salt into the mix. Not too much, he noted as he replaced the shakers into their rack before standing back proudly. 

“Nyeh heh heh, another victory for the Great Papyrus!” After a moment, his chest deflated slightly. Something was missing. He felt the ghostly impressions of your arms wrapping around his chest, your lips on his cheek. It felt… empty, not actually having you here, about as empty as the familiar voice and laugh that lilted through his mind like it would somehow replace the real thing. He pulled his phone back out and dialed your number, his thumb dancing quickly in agitated muscle memory. 

“You okay, Pap?”

Papyrus nearly dropped his phone, bouncing from palm to palm as he caught it with a flounder. “Sans! Don’t do that,” he exclaimed loudly. “What would you do if I dropped this into the sauce!”

“Then we just fish it out. No need to make a big  _ fuss- _ ili about it!” Papyrus screamed his brother’s name, even though Sans merely shrugged, letting the younger’s frustration roll off his back with a chuckle and grin. “So, have you heard back from them, yet?” Sans opened his eyes and looked at Papyrus with startling clarity, and the taller brother straightened under scrutiny.

“Of course, they should be here momentarily!” Papyrus laughed and waved his brother off. “You know them! If something were wrong, they’d be sure to let us know, first thing!”

Sans paused a moment, taking his words into consideration. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he conceded. “Yeah, they’re probably caught up in traffic or something, yeah? Heh, no arguing with you, Bro. After all, no use in getting ourselves all rattled over nothing, right?”

“... Don’t think I didn’t catch that pun, Sans.” His brother just chuckled and turned his back, walking back into the living room without so much as a witty retort. Once he was gone, Papyrus held his phone up to his skull to catch the last of your voicemail. Disappointed, he clicked the phone off as soon as he heard the beep. He had left a couple of messages already, and honestly, even he knew they were getting rather desperate. Which was silly, right? His datemate could take care of themselves just fine! Surely, you’d be here any moment! But… You really should have been here by now… Papyrus loaded up some plates and walked into the living room, setting them down on the coffee table before his friends. 

“My, thank you, Papyrus,” Toriel hummed warmly from her seat as the last of the plates clicked on the table. Butter, garlic, and pesto permeated the room. “This smells simply delicious.”

He bowed slightly from the waist, positively beaming from the compliment. “Thank you, your Majesty!”

“NGAAAHHH!!! What took ya so long, Punk?!” Papyrus squawked as a strong arm yanked him down by the shoulders, holding him in place as he struggled against the knuckles drilling into his skull. “You've been in that damn kitchen forever!”

“Please don't noogie the skeleton,” Papyrus cried as he tried to free himself from Undyne’s chokehold. Thank Asgore he didn't actually need to breathe.

“Then ask for help next time, ya dork!” Undyne released him with a hearty laugh and a clap on the back that nearly sent him sprawling onto the dishes. “Hell, with our united cooking power, we’d demolish any dish in record time!”

Considering her old home in Waterfall, demolishing was  _ exactly _ what he was worried about. “I thought you'd enjoy Alphys's company tonight,” he explained. “But, of course,” he added with a knowing grin, “it's perfectly reasonable if you would rather cook with me, instead!”

“Hey! Don't put words in my mouth,” Undyne protested, wrapping her arm around Alphys's shoulder, pulling them closer together on the loveseat. Alphys stuttered Undyne’s name, a faint pink glow radiating beneath her scales as she was tugged under her girlfriend’s arm. Papyrus felt his brow twitch in jealousy at the obvious display of affection. Usually, this would call for a good-natured affection competition, but… 

“I'm sure they're just running late, dear,” Toriel offered as she twirled her fork in the noodles. “I bet they'll be knocking on your door any minute now.”

“And then we’ll have to tell them some  _ banging  _ knock-knock jokes for being late,” Sans added with a wink and a high five from the former queen. 

“Ugh, but that would be  _ pun _ -ishing me, too,” Papyrus groaned, not noticing the two pranksters snicker at his unintended joke.

_ Briiing!... Briiing!!...  _

Everyone snapped their heads up as the house phone rang and rattled on its receiver. Papyrus furrowed his brow. Was that you? Why would you call the landline and not his cell number? He picked it up anyway as his friends resumed talking in the background. “Hello, this is Papyrus,” 

“Hello, Mr. Papyrus? This is the South Heart Hospital.” Hospital? Monsters didn't have hospitals, so he didn't really know what that meant. Maybe he should ask you when you come over. “We apologize for disturbing you, but one of our patients listed you as their emergency contact, and unfortunately, there's been an… incident.” Papyrus froze as the lady on the other line read off your full name and asked if he recognized it. Oh, God. It felt like frost had suddenly permeated in his bones, constricting his soul painfully in his chest. That was you. His mind flicked across a couple of key phrases: emergency, incident. Oh God, she was talking about you!

“Are they okay? Are they hurt? What happened?” Papyrus didn't notice the room hush into silence as he gushed question after question. What's wrong? What did he need to do? He needed to do something!

The woman clicked her tongue over the receiver. “Unfortunately, I cannot say over the phone due to confidentiality. I’d have to ask you to stop by, instead; the doctors have a few questions for you.”

Doctor. He knew that word. He glanced towards Alphys for confirmation, even though all she did was stare back at him. “O-of course! I'll be there without delay! Goodbye!” Papyrus hung up the receiver and turned around to see everyone's wide-eyed and expectant stares.

Toriel spoke up first. “Papyrus? Is everything alright, dear?”

“I… I think so,” Papyrus mumbled, staring at the carpet in puzzlement. He paused a moment before shaking the indecision out of his skull. This was not the time. You needed him. “Sorry, everyone, I need to head out. Undyne, you're in charge.”

“Pap?” Papyrus was already out the door by the time anyone could properly react, keys in hand as he strode towards his convertible. A slight breeze chilled the night air, the sun having long since departed over the hills. Hospital, hospital… South Heart Hospital… Where was that? Papyrus looked down at his phone distractedly, looking up directions as he slid into the driver’s seat.

“So, where to?” Papyrus all but shrieked at the sudden voice next to him as Sans leaned over, turning his brother's wrist so he could look at the screen. For Asgore’s sake, he needed to wear a bell or something, Papyrus thought to himself. “South Heart?” Sans's eyes sharpened at the name as it popped up on the screen. “Papyrus, why—” He stopped and shook his head as Papyrus looked at him with a pained expression. “Never mind, I think I have a clue. Okay, put your phone away, I know a shortcut.”

Papyrus looked hard at his brother. “Sans, you are  _ not _ moving an entire  _ vehicle _ with one of your ‘shortcuts’.”

“Never said anything about the car, Bro.” One moment, Sans clapped a hand on his brother's shoulder. The next, Papyrus blinked and found himself in the middle of an expansive waiting room, the comfortable leather of his driver’s seat traded for cheap plastic. His eyes hurt from the sudden transition from darkness to bright fluorescent lighting, and he grimaced at how it made everything look sicklier than it probably was. Or at least it seemed so. His body tensed as he followed after Sans, his eyes wandering to take in the humans hunched over in their seats, not noticing the sudden intruders as they filled out clipboards and nursed their own varied ailments. His bones rattled with a sudden chill. Why were you here? You shouldn't be here. Papyrus shivered again; this place was giving him the jeebies.

The two skeletons stopped in front of a large desk, where a variety of humans in nametags, scrubs, and white coats bustled about, sparing them only a passing glance before returning to their tasks at hand. “Hey, Jules.” Sans leaned against the desk as another human, presumably Jules, looked up and grinned with dark rings under their eyes.

“Sans, hey, I didn't know you were scheduled, tonight,” they drawled, withdrawing their fingers from their keyboard to lean forward as well, propping their weight on their elbows. 

Sans waved his hand dismissively as he felt Papyrus rattle beside him. “No, we’re actually here to—” Papyrus fidgeted impatiently; he didn't have time for this. 

“Is my datemate okay?!” The human at the desk raised their brow at him, their face falling into something unrecognizable as Papyrus recounted his night: your disappearance, his worry, the phone call from the hospital. As soon as he said your name, they nodded subtly as they plugged the information into their monitor.

“Let's see, I... Yes, I have them right here; they're just down the hall. They're stable, now, but— hey, wait!” Papyrus bolted as soon as the receptionist indicated a direction. Something about this place made his figurative skin crawl the longer he stayed. He needed to get out of here. He needed to get  _ you _ out of here. You didn't belong here, you’re not like those ailing and sickly humans out there, you’re the lifelong partner of the Great Papyrus, you're just— He almost missed your room, stopping suddenly and backtracking as soon as your soul lurched out to resonate with his. Your name died in his throat as soon as he stepped into the doorframe, and you just stared back, lying in your hospital bed, your head immobile on the pillow. 

“Pap…” You sounded horrible. You  _ looked _ horrible. You reached out with your free hand as he approached, your other one lying by your side in a soft cast. He wanted to say something, but nothing came at first; all he could think of was that he didn't think humans were supposed to be that color. Your breathing stuttered and hissed, and Papyrus had to take a second to recognize that you were laughing. “Good to see you, too,” you wheezed as he took your hand gently, like you could crumble at any moment. Dark splotches of brown, red and purple marred your skin. And your face… It was so battered and swollen it was a wonder you could see him at all. 

“Oh,  _ love… _ ” Papyrus surprised himself at how quiet he sounded. He cleared his throat before continuing, brushing his fingers through your hair. It wasn't clear who this comforted more, but both of you squeezed your hands together as Papyrus kissed your forehead. “Are you alright? What happened?”

You hummed impassively and you shifted your shoulders in a half-shrug. “It's nothing; I’m fine.”

“Fractured radius, compound fracture in the clavicle, a set of collapsed ribs on the right side, a mere hair’s width from a punctured lung, might I add, hairline fracture on left ankle, mild internal bleeding, mild concussion… For being just ‘nothing,’ I should think you very lucky to be alive, my dear. Flipping over on the highway is no laughing matter.” Papyrus jumped at the sudden voice approaching steadily behind him. A small, slender man in a white coat flipped through the charts in his hand, his jaw set in severity as he walked into the room. He stopped and thrust his hand forward in greeting, seemingly nonplussed by the skeleton towering over his sickroom. “I take it you are Papyrus? A pleasure.”

“Ah, s-same here.” Papyrus took his hand by mere impulse, confusion and loss written plainly on his face. He didn't know what half of those words meant, but he got the distinct feeling they were bad. Lucky to be alive, though…  _ Those _ words sent a chill up his spine and you squeezed his hand as hard as you could, capturing his attention. “But, ah, they're all fine now, right?”

The doctor nodded, flipping through his charts once more for extra assurance. “Yes, they seem to be stable now, but I would like to ask you a few questions so we can discuss their release later this month—”

“A  _ month _ ?!” Your body jerked upright, making you yelp in pain before flopping back, your hand shooting out of Papyrus's grip to gingerly rest on the gauze wrapped around your upper waist. Both men flinched and reached out to steady you. You reached over and pressed a switch on your bedside. Your senses dulled as your IV was pumped full of pain killer, and you closed your eyes, letting every single curse word you knew filter through your mind as you waited for the drugs to slowly encroach on the stabbing pain trailing up your side.

“Datemate, I don't think you're supposed to be moving yet.”

“They aren't,” the doctor added testily 

Papyrus checked your HP, which was already much lower than it should ever be, yet it decreased even further by a slim chunk, making his soul grip in panic. Your grimace faltered as Papyrus took your hand again, holding it gently between his palms, the blip of your heart rate spiking in the background when you caught his pleading expression. You'd never seen him so scared. 

You had to tear your eyes away to glare at the doctor standing at the foot of your bed. “I thought I was getting out of here in a week or so,” you protested. That's what the nurse said. The drugs were messing with your head more than the pain, but you remembered that detail clear as day.

“That was the best case scenario,” he clarified, “it all mostly depends on how your body heals and responds to treatment. For example, I will need to have a nurse come and check you over later this evening, in case your little outburst just ended up holding you back another day or two.”

You bit back a groan as Papyrus smoothed his fingers along your scalp. “Never fear, datemate; what matters is that you're getting better, correct?”

“Correct,” the doctor confirmed before turning to the skeleton at your side. You felt your eyes unfocus as the drugs slowed your mind, and it took you a moment to recognize your doctor was still in the room. Everything seemed so fast all of a sudden. “Excuse me, Papyrus, but you and I just need to hash out some details over here before we proceed.” Papyrus nodded in understanding as the doctor motioned towards the corner of the room. You whined and reached towards his retreating figure as your hand slipped out of his grip. 

“Hey, it's okay,” Papyrus assured, his voice warbling indistinctly in your ears. “I'm right here; neither of us are going anywhere.”

“Promise?”

“The Great Papyrus promises. Just rest; we’re right here if you need us.” Papyrus crossed his heart and raised his right hand; a habit he picked up watching TV with you so many times. You hummed as you felt his teeth press against your forehead. Oh, you loved that man. You let your eyes close and your mind wander, your brow creasing as the pain in your side continued to bite harshly. It was hard to breathe, actually, and you felt a thin layer of cold sweat gather on your hairline. What’s going on? The drugs should be working, by now, right? You leaned over and tapped the button again, only to hiss loudly as something stabbed you in the side when you tried to recline.

The doctor perked his head up as he picked up the sudden, erratic sound coming from your heart monitor. “Excuse me…” He brushed Papyrus to the side and walked over to the machine, fixing his spectacles as he leaned over the monitor. 

“Human? Love, what is it?” You opened your mouth to answer before your face suddenly contorted and you started groaning loudly as the doctor’s face blanched. He ran to the doorframe, calling hurriedly outside while your skeleton rushed to the foot of your bed. Papyrus reached out to grasp your hand when several nurses and aides suddenly flooded into the room, cutting him off. “Wait, what’s happening? What’s wrong?” Papyrus tried to edge his way around one of the humans currently pushing against his chest and barring his path. 

“Sir, we need you to wait outside!”

“What?! Why?” Papyrus never looked down at the human in front of him. His eyes were locked on you, and he craned his head over the crowd as the group converged on you. He did not hear them reply over the screeching, erratic noise of machinery and the constant yelling of instructions coming from person to person. Instead, he just zoned in on the sound of you calling his name in a confused, delirious haze. 

Another aide tried to push him out the door, and Papyrus planted his feet, even though he could feel his shoes skidding across the linoleum in small bursts. “Hey, cut it out! Let me stay!” It took a third to get him out the door, and Papyrus pounded on the door that they shut in his face. “No! Let me in! I can help!” Papyrus tried to push the door in, but to no avail; the lock was too strong. “I have to stay with them! I promised!” Papyrus looked around wildly for another way in. But there was not one to be found; the blinds looking into your room were drawn, and his soul screamed in his chest to match the frenzied shouting behind the glass. 

“Papyrus, what’s wrong?!” He looked down at Sans, who stood by his side with a hand on his forearm.

“I… Promised…” 

He already knew something was wrong in that room, so he didn't bother asking. “Bro, you look absolutely chilled to the  _ bone _ !” Sans’s eyes blacked out when Papyrus refused to call him out on his pun. Usually that always worked, if only for a momentary distraction. Instead, Papyrus just mumbled incoherently, wincing visibly when your voice cried out and drowned out those of the doctors inside. “C’mon, Paps, let’s sit you down, and I’ll find some cocoa to warm you up. How’s that sound?”

“Sans, I don’t understand… They were just fine. They were talking and smiling. I mean, I was just talking to that doctor fellow about letting them stay at home where I can take care of them. Sure, they looked a little worse for wear, but that’s no reason to just kick me out like that…” Papyrus trailed off, his steps hesitant and his head always turned back towards your room as Sans led him down the hall. He promised. He promised he wouldn’t leave you, but here he was: leaving. How would he ever make that up to you? You must be so angry with him. “I know, after we bring them home, we’ll throw them a party! All the pasta they want! I’m sure they’ll like that, won’t they, Sans?” Sans replied with only a brief, indecisive hum, keeping his head forward as they walked back inside the waiting room, ignoring the endless pitied looks from random passerby. Sans pulled out a chair for his brother to sit before clapping a hand on his shoulder with a conflicted expression. “Sans?”

Sans smiled, though there was little comfort to be had from the gesture. Papyrus knew by now when his brother was hiding things, but he did not call him on it. He didn’t want to hear it. Sans never had much faith in anyone, but you’d pull through. You had to pull through. You’d be fine. Any minute, one of those doctors would come back and say that it was a false alarm. You’re fine. You’re safe. You’re not going anywhere. “You’ll be okay, Pap,” Sans said, his voice slow and soft as he picked out what he felt were the right words. “Whatever happens, Pap, you’ll be just fine, okay?” Papyrus said nothing. He couldn’t bear to meet his brother’s gaze. He didn’t want to hear this. He wasn’t hearing this. Everything was fine. You’re fine. The brothers were silent for what felt like an eternity before Sans excused himself awkwardly to fetch that cocoa, and Papyrus sat still for an eternity longer. Papyrus sighed and stared at the linoleum floor. Everything seemed so far away. In slow motion. You were fine, you were going to be okay. Papyrus dug in his pocket for his phone and dialed your number. 

_ Beeeep… Beeeeep… Beeeeep…. Boop! _

Papyrus cracked a small smile when he heard you laugh into the phone. “Haha, hey! Sorry, I can’t come to the phone right now! But leave your name and message and you’ll hear back toute de suite!”  _ Beep! _

He breathed shakily into the phone for a second. You must be so scared right now. “H-hello, Love. Hey, I’ll, uh, I’ll see you soon, alright?. We’ll be just fine, okay? I promise… I love you. God, I love you. And, God… Love, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry I didn’t pick you up tonight. If only I did, then you—” Papyrus sucked in a breath through gritted teeth as orange tinted tears splattered on the floor. “I… I love you. Please be alright.” 


	2. Faulty Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's grown accustomed to the sound of your voice. The doctors refuse to let him see you, even after a whole day has passed. He wants to see you, to hear your voice. But, he'll settle for your recording. At least until you get better.

“Haha, hey! Sorry, I can’t come to the phone right now! But leave your name and message and you’ll hear back tout de suite!”

_ Boop. _

Papyrus hesitated before speaking, a rasp still clinging to his breathing from earlier, despite the styrofoam cup of chocolate currently wrapped loosely in his fingers. “So, um, you’re taking a while in there,” he breathed, casting a glance at the wall before catching himself. “I-I’m not worried, or anything! You’re far too strong and determined for that. If anything, I’ll probably have trouble getting you to sit down and heal!” Papyrus chuckled as a fleeting image passed his mind of you trying to get out of bed for whatever reason, your voice raised in a frustrated groan. Perhaps he should put Sans in charge of keeping you occupied; he would love the opportunity to just do nothing with you. “Well, anyway, that’s not why I called. I actually wanted to ask you a question! While I’m still thinking of it, so I don’t forget! So after you get discharged, I was thinking that—”

“Hey, Pap?” 

“Er, it can wait, Love. I’ll see you, soon.” Papyrus clicked his phone off and set his cup down as Sans shuffled towards him from down the hall. “So… Have they told you anything?” Sans nodded solemnly, making his brother’s soul tense in his chest. Finally! If he didn’t get any news soon, he was going to go stir crazy. He grabbed Sans’s hand insistently and looked at him. “I mean, are they finished?! Is my datemate going to be okay?”

“Er, yeah, I caught them on their way out, and—Whoa!” Papyrus shot out of his seat, making Sans yelp in surprise.

Dozens of eyes glued themselves to Papyrus as he pulled his brother into a big, crushing hug, laughing loudly. “Oh, what a relief! Your eyes were blacked out for a moment, so I was worried. But I’m sure you were just worried too, right? Of course, there is nothing the datemate of the Great Papyrus cannot handle! Sure, they were taking a while, but humans take longer to heal, anyway!” Papyrus set his brother back down and collected himself, a big, goofy grin on his face. “Nyeh! I need to see them! Right now!” 

“Wait, Pap!” Papyrus looked down in confusion as Sans gripped his wrist with an uncharacteristic strength, keeping him from sprinting back into the hall. The lights came back in his brother’s eyes, almost unnaturally bright as he forced a grin. “It, uh… I don’t think you should disturb them, bro. They’re, um, not awake, you know? They’ve been through a lot, so...”

Papyrus nodded in false understanding. “Right! I should let them heal and recover, of course! And we can set up for them for when the doctors let them come home!”

“Hey, sounds like a plan, bro. For now, let’s just go home, yeah?” Sans held out his hand for Papyrus to take, and in a blink, the noises of the hospital rushed over them and died out in an instant. No waiting room chatter, no monotonous garbling over the intercom, no noises of random monitors and machinery, just the steady  _ tick tick tick _ of the wall clock in a darkened room. “I-uh, asked Tori and Undyne to take everyone home, yesterday. I gather you’d probably be too exhausted to do anymore entertainin’, right? Uh, Papyrus?” Sans stared in puzzlement as his brother wandered about the room, picking up old plates and tidying up with an acute sense of purpose. “Hey, Paps. C’mon, it’s late; what’re you doing?”

“Getting ready. I want to make sure my datemate is comfortable and in a clean environment when they’re ready to come home!”

Papyrus didn’t notice his brother tense up as he slid past to fix up the chairs. “Well, it’s not like they’ll be ready by tomorrow, Paps. Why don’t we just set you down for bed? Then I’ll come back over, and we’ll do some prep work in the mornin’?”

“Sans, you and I both know we’ll never get any work done if you have anything to say about it. Exactly  _ how _ long did it take you to start picking up your socks?” He smirked skeptically, glancing over before returning to work. “No, I’m just going to get a head start now; I doubt I’ll be able to rest much, anyway.”

“I could stay over tonight? Maybe read you some ‘Peek a Boo with Fluffy Bunny’ like we used to back in the Underground?”

Papyrus paused, clutching a strewn couch cushion in serious thought. “Well, it’s been a long time, but…” Papyrus shook his head adamantly and set it down in its place. “Perhaps another time, Sans. I mean, I’ve been doing a lot better at getting proper rest since they moved in with me. Who knows? Maybe I’m cured, and I’ll actually be able to rest without assistance, for once!” He laughed triumphantly while Sans’s grin faltered in slight skepticism.

“Heh. Maybe, so, Bro. But you got my number, right? I’ll be over in two winks if ya need me.”

Papyrus rolled his eyes and smiled with a small humph. “I swear, Brother, you simply worry too much. I’m not a baby bones! I’m the Great Papyrus! But, yes, I’ll keep that in mind. Have a good night, Sans.” Sans grinned and blinked out of time and space, and Papyrus had to will himself not to be jarred by the unceremonious teleport. He really shouldn't use it all willy-nilly like that. It might be an inborn talent of his, like bone attacks and blue magic, for instance, but that did not mean it was limitless. They really needed a talk about that; the last thing he needed was to visit you in the Hospital and him in the Lab with Alphys. Having one seriously injured loved one was bad enough… And he just realized Sans made another pun.

Putting the thought out of his mind, Papyrus walked up the stairs to his bedroom, got dressed for bed and turned out the lights. His finger paused as he flicked off the light switch. He never did finish his voicemail for you, did he? No, he didn’t think so. He should finish it now. At least he remembered his question; it would have been awful if he forgot and left it incomplete for you. Who knew? Maybe you’re actually awake, now! And he could actually talk to you! He could apologize for leaving you alone at the hospital, and for not offering to pick you up from the store last night. He was the one who needed more ingredients, after all; that should have been his responsibility. But no, he knew you were already out and nearby the market after work, so he called and asked you. And, of course, you agreed to it, claiming it was no big deal.

Papyrus’s face fell, tension building back up behind his forehead as he felt another stress headache coming on. He held his skull in his hand, snatching his phone off of his nightstand and sitting down on the edge of his bed. The light on his phone was glaring in the soft darkness of his room, and Papyrus scowled as he turned down the brightness before dialing your number. His soul clenched in anticipation at the first ring. “Pick up. Pick up, pick up...” The second ring droned on, followed by the third, and he felt it sink slightly. Maybe you were still asleep? Or the doctors had not returned your stuff, yet? It rang a fourth time. 

That was okay; he could just leave a bunch of messages for you to hear once you’re discharged! You could listen to them in the car as you both leave the Hospital, and you’d smile at him for being so conscientious and forward-thinking about your dismissal! The fifth ring was cut off by faint static as your recorded laugh flowed through the receiver. He smiled; he remembered when you made that. It was before you started dating, though his fascination with you was almost immediate. He held out on confessing to you until he could be could be sure of his feelings. Seemed like forever ago, now.

“Haha, hey! Sorry, I can’t come to the phone right now! But leave your name and message, and you’ll hear back tout de suite!”

_ Boop. _

“Hello, Love, it’s me again. Your lovable, huggable skeleton: the Great Papyrus! Nyeh heh heh! I’m sorry I had to cut my last message short, Sans had to tell me something. Actually, he said the doctors have finally left your room! Isn’t that great?! That means that they finished healing you! You can come back home with me as soon as you are ready! I had to come home straight away and make sure the house is clean and free of debris obstructing your recovery! Speaking of which, that’s not why I called. Um, didn’t I say that when I last called? No matter! When you are dismissed from the hospital I, the Great Papyrus, am taking you out on a date! Nyeh heh, it’s been a while, hasn’t it? Since our last actually planned date? I know you prefer it when they’re more impromptu, but I want to take you somewhere nice to get your mind off of your injuries! Well, Love, I think I shall retire to bed. Sleep well! I will call you again tomorrow to check up. I love you!”

Papyrus clicked the phone off and set it back on his nightstand, burrowing under the covers and closing his eyes. Papyrus screwed his eyes shut and tried to block out the faint click of the downstairs clock. It was way too noisy! Yet, at the same time, too quiet. He could not hear the rustle of the blankets as you turned over next to him. He could not hear your breathing, or the noises you would often make in your sleep. Papyrus tried to stay still and not think about it, but that made your absence worse. Sleep did not come easily that night.

 


	3. No Longer In Service

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He lied back then, too. Told his brother that his friends were on ‘vacation,’ instead of just ‘resting,’ like you were. But even if his lie was able to work back then, he knew that he would not be so lucky this time around. The world is bigger on the surface, and information here is not so controllable as a result. If Sans didn’t say anything soon, it was only a matter of time before his brother found out on his own

It was just about ready… Papyrus fanned the oven as it opened, waving humid air out of his face before removing a pitch black ceramic bowl from the center rack and allowing it to cool on the countertop. For a second he stared blankly at the dish. What exactly was he making again? The details were foggy, an influx of steam was obscuring the pastry. Papyrus thought a moment before slamming the oven shut with a chuckle. Of course, your favorite dessert; how could he ever have forgotten? It smelled delicious! Papyrus smiled as he thought of the sweet zing of cinnamon, the lip-smacking scent of butterscotch, a hardened sugar glaze clinging to warm crust, and everything else he knew it was supposed to smell like.

“Smells good,” you hummed as you buried your face in his back and wrapped your arms around his middle.

“Nyeh heh heh, of course! I, The Great Papyrus, am pleased to announce the perfection that is Queen Toriel’s recipe! Improved by yours truly in celebration of your return!”

“Ha ha, because of  _course_ you’d find a way to improve perfection, Paps.”

“Anything for my beloved! You know that!” Papyrus smiled eagerly and tried to turn his body to return your embrace, but could not. You weren’t letting go.

You nuzzled his spine softly and curled your fingers over his ribs, as you were prone to doing whenever you needed him close. “… Anything, huh? Do you promise that?” Something about your tone unsettled him. His body still refused to move; why can’t he look at you?

“Human? Is something the matter, Love?” You didn’t answer. You just held tighter. He couldn’t budge as your fingers gripped his shirt, and his joints felt… stuck. He thought of the gummed-up gears of a rusty clock.

“It’s a shame you’re so bad at keeping promises. I might actually have believed you. I might have actually come home…” Papyrus began to taste the exponential unrest in the air. He couldn’t even turn his head to see you; his body wasn’t responding. The digital clock on the counter began rapidly climbing down. 10:59… 10:32… He felt something fine crumble into his joints; were you just at the beach? Papyrus winced as it started to chafe and burn; what was that? 

“Where did you go, Pap?” He wasn’t used to hearing you speak so quietly. You sounded upset. A chill crawled up his spine, and you did not wait for him to respond. He heard something crack and crumble in your hands over his ribs. “Why did you leave me alone back there? Why didn’t you help me?”

“W-what? Datemate, I-I never  _meant_  to leave you? I—”Something was wrong, very wrong. Papyrus twisted in your grip desperately and the crackling sound grew louder, accompanied by the sound of something like sand spilling on the ground.

With one final jerk, he pulled free, and you screamed and staggered back in response. Papyrus stared in slack-jawed horror as your limbs crumbled into red dust on the floor. “Oh god, oh god oh god…” Papyrus’s world went hazy as he focused on his hands, dried blood crumbling his hands and grinding against his joints. Your face screamed at him in pain as he looked up again.

“Papyrus! You promised!!!”

_“Datemate!!!”_

Papyrus lunged over the bed and tumbled onto the floor with a loud thud. He groaned in pain but made no moves to get up. Instead, he just rolled over onto his back and tried to catch his breath, ignoring the tears trickling over the sides of his skull. It’s just a dream, he reminded himself. Just another dream. A cold sweat streamed down his neck and made him shiver. Ugh, he hated this. It’s been days, now. Specifically, seven days since the accident. One week since he last saw you, since he held your hand as you told him you loved him… You could not come home fast enough so he could get the chance to say it back. Shakily, Papyrus lifted his hand and inspected it thoroughly, waiting for the burnt, powdery impressions on his fingers to fade from view. It’s also been just as many days since the first time he suffered these recurring nightmares. It always ends with you screaming in agony and the feeling of dust grinding in his joints.

He was terrified, and he missed you. When were you coming home? He asked Sans pretty much every day, but his brother would always just say that everything was going to be okay, remind him that the doctors know what they’re doing, and then would suggest he partake in one of his old activities from Underground. And, yes, while field trips back to Snowdin or hanging out with Undyne to cook together like they used to always helped him get his mind off things for a little bit, it was always only temporary. It was fun to reminisce, sure, but that wasn’t his life, anymore. You were.

Papyrus picked himself off of the floor and started to get dressed. As much as he may want to, it would not do for The Great Papyrus to laze about in his room. After all, you are surely doing your best to recover and return to him! What sort of skeleton would he be if he didn’t do his best in return? Were you up yet, he wondered? Maybe this would be a good time to leave you your morning voice message, now that he’d stopped shaking.

Papyrus was able to tune in on a muffled noise coming from downstairs as he tugged on some pants, disrupting his train of thought. Probably Sans again; his brother had been stopping by often as of late, he noticed. The short skeleton excused it as spending more quality time together with his little brother while you’re away resting, which Papyrus appreciated. But it seemed somehow more than that as time went on. It was strange, to be honest, how Sans would just come over unannounced and insist on crashing on the couch for the night, which was not unusual since one of his part-time jobs was relatively close by.

What  _was_  odd, however, was his behavior when he did stop by. He was being actually productive, cooking simple meals and tidying up where Papyrus did not, which, to be perfectly honest, was even more unusual for the tall skeleton, himself than anything. You had always praised him for his boundless energy, but he was often losing more and more focus doing everyday tasks. More than once, he has found himself staring into space, and would always come to when he gradually felt a horrid ache that his soul, like something important was ripped from it and left to heal on its own. He brought the subject up to Sans once, and he couldn’t help but notice how his brother’s eyes flickered into a split second of darkness as if he had said something entirely disturbing. Sans excused it at the time as Papyrus just being lonely, but he didn’t quite buy it. 

Papyrus yawned and staggered town the bottom steps, his vision still foggy and bleary-eyed from lack of sleep. He could hear Sans talking aloud as something boiled in the kitchen, and the taller brother hummed at the distinct smell of brown sugar and oatmeal. “Nah, he’s still asleep,” Sans stated absently as he turned off the heat and removed the pot from the burner before reaching up to grab a bowl. “Yes?… Yeah, he’s, uh, still asking, and… No, I… still haven’t gotten around to it.” Sans winced as Undyne screamed at him over the phone. “Christ, Undyne, it’s still morning! Catch me a break would ya?”

“Do you think I give a shit about my indoor voice?!” Sans heard Alphys’ faint mumble over the phone. They must have still been getting up. Or, at least Alphys was. After a moment, Undyne took a deep breath and gripped the phone tightly. He could hear her hissing through the receiver. “Sans, it’s been a goddamn week; you have to tell him what went down that night! You can’t keep hiding this, forever!”

Sans groaned and wiped a hand over his face after he scooped everything into Pap’s bowl and dropped the pot into the sink to cool down. He knows all too well that his brother is gonna find out, eventually. It’s not like this is the first time Sans has tried to do this. He didn’t exactly remember it, himself, but… Well, Sans and the Kid have talked about it before: his experimenting with the timeline. Sans learned just how many times Frisk had reset the timeline, and, even though he never asked, also learned the effects of almost every single one of note. One run in particular came to mind: when Paps was made King of the Underground. Which sounded like a pretty sweet ending, at first… Until Sans knew more.

“What am I supposed to tell him, huh? You’ve seen what he’s been like; I just…! I can’t, you know, do that to him. Not when he’s still so hopeful.” It’s funny. Back then, according to Frisk, Sans had the same response as he did now: lie. Withhold information for as long as he could. Apparently, instead of ‘resting,’ Sans told his brother that his friends were on ‘vacation.’ But, even though this apparently worked Underground, he knew that he would not be so lucky this time. The world is bigger, and information is not so controllable. If Sans didn’t say anything, it was only a matter of time before his brother found out on his own.

Papyrus frowned as he lingered in the living room. He could vaguely hear Undyne scream some more over the phone. She sounded angry. He heard Sans suck in a breath suddenly and pause before muttering to her darkly. “If you tell him now, I swear to God, Undyne, consider yourself de-boned.” Papyrus shivered at the tone of his brother’s voice. That sounded… distinctly like a threat. He couldn’t remember Sans threatening anybody. Least of all a friend. Maybe he should get in there and mediate.

Before Papyrus made up, his mind, however, an envelope on the coffee table caught his attention. Was that his name on the front? Sans sighed heavily in the other room. “Don’t worry, Undyne, I… I’ll tell him, okay? I got his mail, today, and… Well, it’s obvious I can’t hide it much longer.”

Distracted, Papyrus mostly ignored his brother and reached for the isolated envelope in interest. It was a little singed, he noted as he turned it over in his fingers. One of the corners was almost completely burned off like someone was ready to burn it, but judging by the hasty footprints smacked across the paper, suddenly decided otherwise. Papyrus looked towards the kitchen in confusion as Sans continued to talk on the phone. This was definitely addressed to him, though. Why would his brother attempt to burn his mail? Sans knew how much he loved correspondence. Hm. Maybe he just thought it was some spam for the fireplace? They both received quite a lot since coming to the surface…

Papyrus stuck his finger in the corner of the envelope and tore it open. Oh! It’s a card! “In Loving Memory… Memory? Please join us to celebrate the life of…” Papyrus’s fingers started to shake uncontrollably because that _can’t_  be your name. “What..?” No, this is some kind of mistake. He checked the death date: exactly one week ago. Was he still dreaming? Papyrus looked around and checked his clothes for more bloody dust. None.

Sans walked into the living room at nearly that exact moment, obliviously carrying two bowls of his brother’s favorite oatmeal. “Oh, Pap, you’re up! In the mood for some… break… fast…?” Sans’s practiced grin fell easily off of his face when he recognized the burnt envelope in his brother’s hand.

Papyrus was still shaking as he read the card again, not making contact with the shorter skeleton. “Brother? What is this?” Sans winced at the way Papyrus’s voice broke.

“Paps… I… Christ, this isn’t how I wanted you to—”

Papyrus took a step back when Sans set down his bowls of oatmeal and approached him for a hug, shaking his head and crinkling the card slightly in his fingers. “Find out what, Brother? I’m honestly not sure… I mean, I don’t understand what this means? Could you explain it?” Papyrus brought the paper back to his face and tried to read it again, hoping it would make more sense with a second viewing. It didn’t. Because it couldn’t possibly mean what it was suggesting. You were fine. You were safe and healing in your hospital room. Weren’t you? “Did something happen to my mate, Sans? A-are they okay? Should we call the—”

“Papyrus… They’re dead.” The room went immediately quiet. Sans winced and shuffled his feet. So much for softening the blow. He had hoped to wait until his brother was actually calm enough for them to talk about the situation, but… No matter how hard he tried to lessen his brother’s anxiety and loneliness, it just got worse. Nothing worked. Not training with Undyne, not baking with Toriel… Hell, not even the Cooking With a Killer Robot reboot seemed to do the trick. And, now that the day finally came to tell Papyrus the truth, Sans was… God, what could he even say at this point? He spent so many hours scripting it out in his head, but it felt like everything just flew out the window. “I, I’m sorry, Paps.”

Papyrus chuckled softly and Sans felt chills crawl up his back. “This is a joke, right? Nyeh… Nyeh heh…” Papyrus stepped back, clutching your funeral invitation in his fingers and shaking his head. “Sans, I’ve always said your jokes are bad, but, really? This is… Just not funny.”

“What? Bro, I’m not—” Sans blinked, not sure how to react. He was expecting his bro to be angry. Furious, even. But this was somehow worse because it meant that he had to say it more than once. He didn’t want to. Papyrus’s eyes were already brimming, and his bones rattled noisily like they were on the verge of collapsing into a heap on the floor. Sans felt like he should do something. Something other than standing tongue-tied with his fists stuffed in his pockets. “Papyrus, I’m sorry. That night, they… They punctured a lung, the doctors said that they were bleeding too much on the inside, so…” Sans went silent, knowing he couldn’t find the right words. Papyrus didn’t know how human anatomy worked, and it wasn’t like Sans knew enough to explain it well, either. Shit, how did that doctor put it, again?

“I, um…” Papyrus scrunched up his face, his brow furrowed and his mouth upturned weakly in a complex expression. “I’m sorry, Brother, but I don’t seem to be feeling too well. Do you mind if I lay down for a bit?”

Sans looked up suddenly at the quiet request. Papyrus fidgeted restlessly, his eyes flickering up the staircase every now and them. But, if Sans was honest, he was a little relieved; every fiber of his being wanted to run away. Sans hated confrontation with a passion. “Uh, yeah. Sure. I’ll, uh, talk to you later, Bro. Whenever, you know, you’re ready.”

“Thank you, Brother.” Papyrus felt weird as he climbed the stairs up to his room. Externally, he felt cold and tingly, and both his soul and head throbbed painfully. By the time Papyrus closed the door behind him, he was out of breath. But, on the inside, he felt numb. This wasn’t right. You were gone? Just like that? That was a joke. No way, you wouldn’t leave him like that. Not without giving him the chance to say “goodbye”, or “I love you,” or  _anything_. That’s not how it went. The hero always got the chance to tell his beloved how he felt in the end. He thought back to the movies you showed him since coming to the surface; you only showed him ones with a happy ending, where everything works out and the leading couple is together forever. 

He started to get angry. This was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong! Papyrus groped for his phone without thinking and dialed your number. He needed to hear your voice. He needed you to pick up so you can tell him that he was still dreaming. So you can remind him that you were still here, that his world had not gone mad without him realizing because you  _couldn’t_  be gone, no, no, no.  _Please_  pick up this time, please—

 _Bee-bee-beeep!_  “We’re sorry, this number has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check your number and try your call again.”

He did. His soul dropped like a stone when he heard the tone again. “We’re sorry—”

“No.”

“This number has been disconnected—”

“No, stop it.”

“Or is no longer in service.”

Papyrus chucked his phone across the room and listened to it play faintly over and over, the sound somehow still overshadowing his own ragged breathing. Papyrus put his head in his hands and could not help the hot, prickling sensation in his sockets as tears started to drip down his face and fall on the floor. “No… Datemate…” He couldn’t breathe. Everything hurt, he was burning, burning… Crumbling… Falling… Falling… Come back. Please. You had to come back. He promised not to leave your side, you couldn’t be gone. Please, please… Papyrus noted the fine powder collecting on the sheets. He could not bring himself to care. You were actually gone. You were gone for a long time and he couldn’t stand it. He could hear Sans knocking at the door. He ignored it. You left him without so much as a goodbye. You left him behind without knowing how much he loved you. How much he needed you. Please. Come back. Come back.


	4. Redial// Side: S

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans goes to a funeral and Flowey the Flower rips him a new one.

“Where are we, Sans?” 

“A human-style funeral, I guess,” Sans mumbled before looking around at the scenery. Humans paced to and fro, assembling chairs, cleaning debris and set up decorations for the event. Hardly any guests were here, yet, save for members of what he assumed to be the immediate family huddled together a short distance away. They were early. Too early and Sans hated it. However, Undyne promised him she’d come over to kick his ass if he was just a teensy bit late and he was inclined to believe her this time. Not that he’d do that to Papyrus, anyway. Not today. 

“Why,” his younger brother asked as Sans rolled him across the grass.

Sans thought a moment before speaking. “I figured after everything that’s happened you’d wanna, uh, see them off.”

“See who off? Is someone going on a trip?”

Sans sighed as they pulled up near the front. He had spent so much time dreading telling Papyrus of your fate. Funny how things change, except it’s not funny at all. “No, Paps. Not exactly.” Sans stopped a couple of rows away from the front before bending down to lock Papyrus’s wheelchair in place. It was still weird to him, seeing his brother mostly immobile after almost a lifetime of constant energy. Sans refused eye contact as one of the humans placed an enlarged photo on the easel. Papyrus tugged on his sleeve apprehensively and pointed.

“Why do they have a picture of my datemate here?”

“Because, Pap,” he remarked softly, “Today’s their funeral. Do you remember that card you got the other day?”

Papyrus stiffened and looked his brother searchingly. He stared a good moment before clicking his tongue and turning his head back around towards the empty hole. “Honestly, Brother,” he chided, “telling me the same joke over and over again does not make it any funnier. Especially when it's one made in such poor taste.”

“Sorry, Bro.” 

Before, it was just a matter of finding the right time to tell Papyrus the truth about what happened. Now, the problem was getting Papyrus to believe it. He hated doing this. He hated having to tell Papyrus the same thing over and over and watching him slowly fall day after day. 

“Ah… Paps, you’re, uh, starting to dust a little again.”

“Am I?” Papyrus looked down and moved his hands to his armrests; sure enough, there was a fine pile of silvery dust collecting on his lap.”I apologize; I didn’t even notice.”

Sans chuckled sadly as he swiped the residue off of his brother’s good suit. “Come on, Bro, ya gotta try and hold yourself together a bit for me, ya know?” 

“You’re right, Brother. I’ll try a little harder.”

Sans felt a sharp pang when he heard how resigned that sounded. He hated this so much. At this rate, Papyrus was going to crumble and dust until there was nothing left. But everyone else unanimously agreed that this was the best course of action; bring him out of his denial so everyone can focus on making him better rather than delaying the descent. Even Sans had to agree in the long run that it’s impossible to help someone who firmly believes that there’s nothing wrong. He has been trying to work through enough of his own issues to acknowledge that. And if this would keep his brother from falling down even further, he was at least willing to try. 

It was at that moment something, or rather someone, caught Sans’s eye. Just the person he wanted to find. “I’ll, uh, be right back,” he said to Papyrus, “You sit tight, okay?”

“I’m not going anywhere, Sans. Literally.” Papyrus smiled as he gestured to the locked up wheelchair, though Sans knew his brother for long enough to know that he was still upset. Sans hesitated before patting him on the shoulder reassuringly before he walked off towards a nearby maple tree, half of the leaves already brown and decorating the ground.

“Fancy seeing you here, Trashbag,” a yellow flower remarked from his pot as small hands held him aloft off the ground.

“Flowey, hush. Not today.”

“Heh, how’s it goin’, kid,” Sans greeted, choosing to ignore the talking weed for the moment. Why’d Frisk bring them to a funeral, anyway? It’s not like Flowey has ever had any sense of decorum.

Frisk nodded with a small smile. “We’re doing okay. School recently started up, again, so Mom and I’ve been busy. Flowey and I’ve been trying to study together, so that’s been interesting.” Frisk paused before looking over to the crowd that had started to gather. It was starting soon. “I take it he isn’t doing better,” they remarked as they spotted Papyrus in his chair, talking quietly to an older lady. 

Sans shook his head before gesturing to a bench further along the way. “Hey, uh, d’you mind if we talk? I’ve got something I wanna ask ya.”

“Here we go,” Flowey groaned as he pretended to roll his eyes to which Sans shot him a stern glare before Frisk nodded and accompanied them to the bench. Some of the excess fabric on Sans’s suit flapped in the wind, and even though Sans did not feel cold, he could tell it was getting cool and gusty. The weather was starting to change. He could see some of the set-up crew scramble to finish assembling a tent for the crowd as the two sat down in silence.

“So—”

“You’re going to ask for a reload, aren’t you.”

The question came so quickly it caught Sans by surprise. In fact, it was said so matter-of-factly it wasn’t even a question. It was an assumption. Frisk looked up towards the sky as if figuring out when the storm was going to hit. Sans cleared his throat. After all of his time Underground, after all of the resets and loads that dragged their imprisonment for what felt like years longer than it had actually lasted, Sans never thought he’d ever ask Frisk to manipulate the timeline ever again. But, here he was.

“I’m not askin’ for a full reset, you know,” Sans explained, “But, I know you’ve been keeping up your save files.” Frisk didn’t respond to that, confirming Sans’s suspicions. “So, I just wanna ask for a quick favor. For Paps. I need to fix this for him. I need to make things right.”

“Tch.” Flowey clicked his tongue with a fed-up expression. “God, how selfish are you?”

_ “Excuse me?” _

“Please,” the plant taunted as its face twisted into a dark glower, “We all know this is about you. It’s always about you. You just want a redo so you don’t have to look at the mess you made of your brother.”

“Flowey—”

“Shut it, Frisk,” Flowey barked, “I need to say this so Smiley Trashbag here can get it through his thick skull.” Sans was shaking a little, though he hid it well behind an impassive smirk. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Weed.”

“Oh, don’t I? That’s a laugh. How many times has Undyne come to our house, venting to Toriel how  _ you _ keep leaving Papyrus in the dark? How many times as she called you immediately afterward, requesting to sit Papyrus down and tell him what happened to his precious datemate? Answer correctly now, cause I was there listening to that shit every  _ damn _ time.” Sans winced at that. “And every time she called? You refused. You refused to let anyone tell him the truth because you didn’t want to deal with the aftermath. You kept saying that you’d do it yourself ‘when the time is right.’ Well, guess what, Smiley? You waited too long.  Now you’ve gotta deal with  _ that _ .” Flowey pointed his stem over to the fully set up tent, where Papyrus and that lady were still talking. It looked more involved now, with her sitting next to him as they both leaned into the conversation.

Flowey’s abrasive thoughts continued to cut into him before he even ot the chance to wonder what they were talking about. “You’ve always been like that, taking action only when it’s too late and you have literally  _ no options left. _ Gee, reminds me of the Underground. How about you, Frisk?” They both winced at that one. That was a little too far.

“You shut the hell up,” Sans growled, his smile still forced on for anyone watching, but his eyes blacked out in a foreboding stare that made Frisk shiver. They knew that look well. 

“And now you’re begging for a load because you can’t deal with the consequences,” Flowey taunted.

“Flowey, stop, you’re being unfair.” Frisk took Sans by the hand, grounding him down to Earth as Flowey huffed. “I apologize, Sans. Perhaps I should leave Flowey at home one of these days if he’s going to continue being like this.” Frisk shot Flowey a pointed glare as Sans wiped his hand across his forehead, taking shuddering breaths as he tried to calm himself down.

“No… No, as I hate to admit it, the weed has a point.”

“See?!”

“At a  _ funeral, _ Flowey? Please try and develop some decorum,” Frisk sighed exhaustively, setting Flowey’s pot down to the side so they and Sans could talk more privately. “I actually understand, Sans. I know what it’s like to make a mistake and desperately want to change it. I’ve done that… a number of times, myself.”

“So, will you help me,” Sans asked hopefully. Frisk hummed, giving him pause. “Frisk?”

“I wonder… Do you really think it’d be worth it? I mean, do you sincerely think you’ll be able to change anything if I did?”

“What..?”

Frisk shook his head. “I’m not saying I will or won’t; I’m asking you to think.” Frisk took a deep breath and refocused themselves. “I’ve seen a lot of timelines, you know that,” they began, “Time and destiny are very formulaic for us. Whether it’s because of our times Underground or if it’s a general rule I don’t know. But, the future is very difficult to change if you’re not aware of it. And, Sans, even though you come close, you’re not fully aware of time. You never remember anything specific in resets; I’ve had to tell you. There’s just no guarantee that you’d actually remember enough to change anything.”

“But there is a chance,” Sans argued.

“Infinitesimal.” How old was this kid, again?

Sans’s eyes sharpened to steely pinpricks. “And how are you so certain that I’ll fail, huh? I’ve surprised you before.”

Frisk smiled sadly. “Because this isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation.”

Sans had to pause at that. How many times then? How many times did he come to this exact point and ask for a redo before recreating everything all over again?

“And yet you come back here, anyway,” Flowey commented snidely.

Sans paused as he came to the same realization. He thought perhaps Tori brought them here as a show of support. But, as Sans looked around, he didn’t see her anywhere. “That’s right” Frisk confirmed with a smile. “Because I actually have an idea that might work.”

Flowey turned his attention elsewhere. Neither of them noticed his stem straighten as something caught his attention. Neither of them noticed the devilish smirk on his face as he began to watch it attentively. Instead, Sans and Frisk were too absorbed in their own conversation to pay attention.  After Frisk finished telling their plan, Sans hummed in deep thought. “See, I dunno how I feel about you having to interfere like that. Sounds like I already owe ya more than enough, already.”

“And yet you’re asking me to bend time itself for you,” Frisk pointed out, making Sans grimace.

“Because you’re the only person I could ask,” he defended.

“I still am.”  

“Hey, bone breath,” Flowey interjected with a smirk, drawing their attention. “You might wanna get in there.” 

“D-datemate..?” Sans looked back towards the funeral grounds and blanched. Oh, God no.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had initially planned to kill Papyrus off by now, by the way. Just letting y'all know.


	5. Redial// Side: P

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Papyrus meets someone new.

Papyrus sat idly amongst empty chairs, itching with restlessness as he watched strange humans begin to arrive at the venue and begin to move about him. He didn’t recognize any faces, but he recognized some of the names floating about as they all grouped up in small clusters to talk. You’ve mentioned some of these people before, he remembered. Or, at least in passing. His bones itched with unrest. It was far too somber around here; he could practically hear the unsaid words hanging in the air. He wanted to go over to one of the groups and ask what was going on, but when he bent over to release the clasps on his wheelchair, he found that they were too stuck tight for his fingers. So, he was just stuck, marooned in a throng of quiet murmuring strangers.

Papyrus immensely disliked this infernal contraption. It was getting almost impossible for him to get around on his own which was apparently its intended use in the first place. Honestly, he still didn’t even know why he needed it; he could walk just fine! Except, well, he couldn’t. Papyrus stared down downcast at his lap, lamenting all the physical activities he was currently unable to enjoy. Cooking, training, cleaning, walking, even  _ standing _ just seemed… Too much. It wasn’t even a matter of not wanting to — if that were the case, Papyrus would just force himself, since that determination usually worked for him in the long run. But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. And he didn’t know why. He supposed it had all started the first day Sans told him you were… gone. He still couldn’t bear to even think the word. Why should he when it wasn’t even true to begin with?

“Excuse me?” Papyrus jolted to attention and looked up to see an older woman standing above him. She smiled kindly, which had Papyrus smiling back on instinct. He couldn’t remember the last time someone looked at him without any misplaced pity. “Hello, dear,” she said smoothly, “Is it alright if I sit with you a moment?”

“Ah! Of course,” he agreed as the woman took a seat by his side. The air turned awkward surprisingly quickly as they sat in silence, just watching the empty hole vacantly. He cleared his throat before extending his hand out in greeting. “Whoopsie, it seems that I’d forgotten my manners for a moment there. My name is Papyrus!” 

The woman chuckled and took his hand in cold weathered fingers. “I figured as much. I have heard much about you, actually.”

“R-really?!” Papyrus blushed as he smiled even wider. Even outside of the Underground, people are starting to learn his name! 

“Indeed,” she nodded, smiling wistfully. “You’re all my child would talk about lately, you know! And when I saw you here by yourself I simply had to come and say hello.”

“Then… You’re related to my datemate?” Papyrus barely noticed the way his face fell subtly as he recalled the supposed reason he was here. This prank was becoming far too elaborate for his liking.

“Datemate?” The woman smiled as she covered her mouth slightly as if to hide her teeth. “I’m sorry, it’s just very heartwarming hearing you call them that. Yes, I am their mother; you may call me Michelle if you like.” Papyrus nodded, not knowing quite what to say. You both were supposed to meet up together next month for dinner when your family would fly in for the holidays. The two of you had spent several days planning dishes and accommodations in preparation for the event because he was just as excited to meet your family as you were about arranging it. So, needless to say, it felt odd to suddenly meet out of the blue in some open field when the initial preparations weren’t even done yet. 

“Today just doesn’t feel right,” Papyrus said softly, not quite realizing he was speaking aloud. Michelle nodded in understanding.

“You’re right. It feels like I should still be dreaming, like none of this is real and everything is just wrong and topsy-turvey for no good reason.”

“There  _ is _ no good reason,” he argued quietly, scowling at the ground. There was no good reason for any of this. There was no good reason for him to need groceries at that exact moment. No good reason that he needed to call you to get them. No good reason for you to end up in the hospital and no reason for you to have not come home by now and there is absolutely no reason he should be stuck in this damn chair dusting because there is nothing wrong!

Michelle frowned as she saw a black hearse pull up by the curb, unnoticed by the skeleton sitting next to her. “I suppose not,” she said distastefully. “No, there is no reason for any of this, is there? Unfortunately, that does not change our circumstances.”

“Their circumstances,” Papyrus said weakly, holding his head in his hands. “They… They’re really not coming home for us, are they?”

“No, Sweetheart. I don’t believe so.” Michelle’s voice wavered and Papyrus sniffed as he bowed over in his seat, clutching himself. Cold dread slowly seeped into his bones, even after he spent so long trying to shake it off. Nothing was wrong, he tried telling himself again like a mantra, but the words struck hollow in his soul. No, something  _ was _ wrong.  _ Everything  _ was wrong. Wrong. Wrong. “Papyrus? Are you alright, dear?” Papyrus shook his head. This was all wrong and it scared him because of all the things that could ever go wrong in his life, you should never be one of them. He choked back a sob and tried to disguise it as a cough. He shouldn’t cry. Not here, out in public in front of a woman he had never met. He had never openly cried openly in front of anyone before. Not out of actual sadness or anger. He never had any reason to. Not even when he was a baby bones growing up with Sans. Papyrus took a deep breath and wiped his eyes just in time to see your casket being carried down the middle aisle. He looked up at the men carrying it, at their stony faces and their set jaws.

“What’s that?” Michelle frowned deeply at the sight, following the pallbearers with misty eyes as they set you down beside the hole and lifted the lid slightly.

“It…” She hesitated before speaking, not willing to say it, either. “It, we arranged for an open casket funeral. Her grandfather already had a lot here that he never used, so…”

“I don’t think I understand? Lot? Casket?” There were so many human terms that he had no context for. It was rather confusing.

Michelle sighed and wrung her wrists. “I’d rather not explain the details right now,” she murmured as a line started to form in front of the coffin. “I think I’m going to take the time to say goodbye to my child. Would you like to come with me?”

Goodbye? “You mean..?” Papyrus’s soul fluttered painfully in his chest, like a bird rattling a cage trying to break out. He looked up to the front of the line and watched the coffin warily. Were you really in there? Part of him didn’t believe it; if you were resting in there, you should have woken up by now, right? You should have called out to him, your soul should have called out to his to let him know of your presence. His bones tingled and rattled under his clothes, sending sharp tingles up his spine and neck. He was afraid, of that there was no question. So that left only one option; he must face the fear, if only for the chance to surpass it. He looked over in the distance at Sans. His brother did not appear to notice what was happening, too wrapped up in a conversation with the Frisk-Human. However, Flowey was also by Frisk’s side, smiling at him from his flower pot. Papyrus thought he saw the plant motion subtly towards the coffin, urging him on. Papyrus nodded and turned towards Michelle. “Yes, please. I would very much like to see them. Would you mind unlocking my chair for me?”

“Hold on one moment,” she said as she got up to unlatch his brakes before coming behind him to wheel the chair into the line, herself. It was quiet in the line, too quiet. It felt oppressive; monster funerals never felt like this. They were more animated, focusing on celebrating the life of the fallen monster and honoring them as the went to live on in their favorite thing. If you were a monster, where would you have chosen to scatter your dust, he wondered? “I’m glad you’re coming with me,” Michelle said softly, derailing his random musings. “I don’t think I could handle it, otherwise.” She gave a long pause. “I still don’t quite believe this is real.”

“Neither do I,” Papyrus answered honestly.

It was only a moment before they came to the front of the line and Papyrus held a breath he no longer knew he had. “Hi, Sweet Pea,” Michelle cooed as she reached in to fix your hair, pushing a lock out of your face and securing it behind your ear so the wind couldn’t mess with it. Your face was still miscolored in some places under the makeup and he could still make out cuts and scars from the crash. But, he could not see any more of the swelling and you looked… Wrong. Th ere was no upward tilt of your mouth that you did when you were sleeping, no steadily rise and fall of your chest… His soul called out to you subconsciously, screaming and crying as Michelle’s words drowned out in his ears. He only heard the silence of your soul. There was nothing there. You were gone.

“D-Datemate?” Papyrus reached into the casket and took your hand, hoping beyond all hope that he’d find some spark of life in your wrist. He found none. You were just cold. Your hand was so cold. He didn’t notice a couple of dirty looks from the other funeral-goers as he rubbed his hands around yours to rekindle your warmth and pressed it to his face, sobbing and aching to feel your comforting touch once more. “No, no,” he cried softly, only vaguely hearing Sans call out his name and rush towards him in mad desperation.

“Papyrus!” His brother strangled out as Papyrus let go of our hand to clutch at the front of Sans’s suit, sobbing loudly.

“S-S- _ Saaaannssss _ ,” he wailed as Sans took him in an enveloping hug, smoothing his hands reassuringly on the back of his skull and his upper spine. “ They’re gone, they’re gone! Why? N-n-nooo, please, Sans, tell me I’m dreaming, Brother! Tell me I’m mistaken! Please!”

Sans didn’t know when he had started crying too as he pulled Papyrus’s chair away from the casket and let him sob into his shirt. “I’m sorry, Pap. I’m so sorry. This is my fault, my fault, I’m so sorry!”

“Papyrus?” The skeleton brothers looked up and saw Michelle standing there with a complex expression on her face.

Papyrus sniffed and wiped his eyes self-consciously. “I’m s-sorry. Did I m-m-mess up back there?” Papyrus attempted a chuckle that fell flat. He probably broke a ton of human etiquette rules. He didn’t mean to. Michelle shook her head, her own eyes red, as well.

“I just wanted to check up on you, dear. I know how fond my child was of you, after all. They wouldn’t want to see us cry for them like this.” Michelle laughed softly. “Why, you won’t imagine how much they used to gush about your smile.”

“Yes, they used to tell me that, too.” You were dead. He knew that now. Objectively, anyway. But, it still felt odd to refer to you in past tense. Papyrus smiled faintly anyway, realizing that Michelle was right. Soul or not, alive or not, you were still right there and you had told Papyrus a number of times that you found his optimism to be his best trait. Shouldn’t he do his best to at least try and make it a happy goodbye? He can always grieve when he gets home. 

“Actually…” Michelle paused as she dug in her purse. Papyrus tensed a little under Sans’s hand on his shoulder. He could pick up several facial quirks you also had when you were mildly anxious about something. “There’s something else, too.” That wasn’t good. 

“Yes?” Papyrus was certain she was able to hear the caution in his voice when he saw her hesitate for a split second before continuing.

“I was uncertain, but the police found this in the car after the crash, and… I think you would want to have it.”

Michelle took Papyrus’s hand and placed a small box in his palm. He gave the woman an odd look of puzzlement before opening despite the way Sans’s fingers tensed on his shoulder. Despite his earlier conviction, Papyrus broke down once more when he saw the ring.

 

* * *

 

**-PAUSE-**

[SAVE]   **[LOAD]** [CONTINUE]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dun-dun-duuuuun!


	6. Dial Tone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you and Sans have a mid-drive chat about his brother. Hopefully, Sans's earlier actions make more sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is, like, very short. But it needs to be here.

The drive home was awkward. Your hands fidgeted on the steering wheel as Sans sat sleepily in the passenger seat. You were not expecting to run into him at the grocery store. Yet, as soon as you got out of checkout there he was, flagging you down. You were also not expecting him to offer to accompany you home instead of taking one of his enigmatic “shortcuts” you had heard so much about. Yet now his jumbo bag of Popato Chisps(™) joined your groceries in the back seat as you drove, trying to keep your eyes on the road. Your bags were mostly spices and ingredients Papyrus asked you to pick up today for his get-together tonight since you were nearby, but you slipped a couple of magazines in there, too. The main articles struck your eye as you perused the aisles: “best ways to make a memorable proposal,” “popular wedding venues,” etc. You were glad Sans didn’t see them in your bag or when you checked them out. You knew he was capable of keeping a secret. Frustratingly capable, actually. That wasn’t the problem. But you were just as skittish telling him as you were with asking Papyrus for his hand. You just wanted to broach the subject with him on your own time; you wanted to at least try to get his blessing before you got too carried away with planning.

Too carried away. Right. As if you didn’t have a ring box in your pocket at this very moment. As if you didn’t customize it yourself so you could make sure it would fit on Papyrus’s finger without slipping off the bone. As if you didn’t ask to replace a couple of miscellaneous gems with those crystals from Ebott: the ones Papyrus once thought stars looked like when he was younger. As if you haven’t already gone through draft after draft of what you were going to say before presenting the ring. As if asking Sans to give his brother away in a wedding ceremony wasn’t way scarier than basically all of those things put together.

“You okay, Buddy?” You cursed internally when you noticed Sans looking at you, his eyes hooded as he grinned loosely. You were sweating bullets; of course, he noticed your nervousness. Sans noticed almost everything, seemed like. But, if he ever noticed your plans to marry his brother, Sans did not mention it. Hopefully, that meant ignorance instead of quiet disapproval.

“I’m fine,” you responded quickly and Sans shrugged his shoulders noncommittally before glancing out the window and watching drops of rain splatter and slide down and across the window. Shoot. Did that sound too curt? “Just wondering what brought you to the grocery store, tonight of all nights,” she rectified.

Sans shrugged again. “What? I was hungry. And I felt like Chisps.”

“So you decide to spoil your appetite before the party?” You did not look over to him, but your voice made your skepticism known. “You know Papyrus would have given you something to tide you over if you were that desperate,” you pointed out as you turned the corner onto the highway. “Not to mention he’d be more than a little upset if you made him waste food.”

“Yeah, you’re right; I’d be positively boned if that happened, huh?” You allowed yourself a tiny smile but refused to laugh. 

He was avoiding the issue. Again. You could vaguely see him shooting you finger guns in your peripheral. You scoffed gently, not wanting to be harsh with him, but Sans knew how to lie when he wanted to and this was not his best work by a long shot. “So what’s eating  _ you _ , Sans, hm?” Sans guffawed at the pun.

“Ha! Good one, Buddy!” You cast him a serious, sideways glance and Sans‘s laughter died down to a chuckle. “Alright… Alright, I gotcha.” Sans gave a heavy sigh and turned back towards the window and watched the rain. The car was silent for what felt like a long moment. It was Sans’s turn to fidget. “Okay, so The Kid  _ mighta _ suggested I spend some with ya before the party tonight.” 

You huffed a small chuckle. Frisk. Of course. That explained it. There was little other honest reason for Sans to stop out for a snack this time of night. Not when Papyrus was already cooking. Or when he had the excuse to dose off while you and the brothers’ friends arrived to mingle. It’s not like you both were close anyway. But if Frisk suggested it? That was more likely. Those two always did have a close relationship, after all. It was hard to define, but who were you to question it? 

“Frisk has good intuition,” you mused on a lighter note while Sans snorted next to you. “I’ve actually been meaning to get you alone for a while.”

Sans actually turned towards you in his seat for once. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I have. It’s, uh, about Papyrus.”

“About my Bro, huh? Me too, actually… Guess we both got things to say, eh?” Your heart sank in trepidation. You suspected Sans didn’t like you much, but you had no evidence, either way, so you didn’t say anything to either brother on the subject. “You guys’ve been… Pretty close, lately, yeah?”

“I should hope so,” you followed, unintentionally sarcastically. Not only were you planning to propose for a month already, but you both were living together and have been for a while without a hitch. “Papyrus makes my life a little brighter, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love him; I really do.”

“Yeah, he tells me the same thing about ya too…” You heard Sans shift again restlessly. He must really be at a loss when he can’t pepper a conversation with puns. Guess he’s being extra serious today. “So, listen.” Uh oh. “Ya know how much I care about my Bro, right?”

“Of course I do.”

“And I don’t want nothing hurting ‘im…”

“Are you saying that I do?” Your ears burned as you drove down the road and you tuned in to every word Sans was saying.

“Not sayin that… But, ya might do it, anyway.” No way in hell. “Ya guys could get in a fight…” Possibly. “Ya could break up, someone might get bored of the relationship…” You winced as the possibility of Papyrus getting bored was one of your concerns while you were ring shopping. “Lot of things might happen, you know? I just wanna talk before ya two get too serious.”

“A little late, actually… I’m actually asking Papyrus to marry me,” you said decisively, your voice matter-of-fact and unwavering. You struggled not to catch a glimpse of Sans’s expression as he remained silent. “Either tonight or next month with my family. Haven’t decided. So, yeah, if you’re asking about my ‘intentions’ about Papyrus, you’re a ylittle late with me..” You paused, and your hands relaxed and tended on the steering wheel. “Have you talked to him, by the way? About your concerns?

“No… Don’t really have to to know how he feels. My bro is over the moon for ya, ya know? Don’t wanna bring him down without a reason, yeah?”

“I’m glad,” you said quietly as you turned the corner. “I really don’t want to live without him. And I’ll never want to hurt him, ever.” 

Sans paused, then sniffed and shrugged complacently. “If that’s really the case, Buddy, then I’m rooting for ya. But, if you break his heart. For  _ any _ reason… Buddy, you—”

You forgot to watch out as you turned off the highway, and everything happened in sudden fragments. Your phone buzzed on the dashboard and a sudden flash of headlights made you flinch as you slammed the breaks. Sans yelled something before the sound of crashing glass and metal quickly overtook him. Gravity lurched and shifted and you weren’t in your seat, anymore. Something cracked your head and you made a small noise before everything turned black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I wasn't gonna kill Papyrus. I said I wasn't gonna kill Reader. Other than that, I didn't say shit. Have fun~

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a kudos and comment down below if you enjoyed!
> 
> If you would like to request a piece from me, reader insert or shipping focused, feel free to message me or send me an ask at arixese.tumblr.com/ask


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